Brix Johnson is the kind of guy a girl brings home to meet her parents.

The reserved intellect.

The handsome boy next door.

The wealthy yoga instructor.

He’s also the guy haunted by the mysterious woman who gave him the best sex of his life, yet refused to give him her name. With his bombshell no more than a memory, he does what any normal, sexually frustrated man would do ─ he returns to Indulgence.

At Indulgence, a yearly, invitation only, New Year’s Eve erotic masquerade party, Brix can shed his typical persona for one night, and be anyone he wants to be. Lucky for him, the women at Indulgence don’t require conversation. They simply want hardcore sex. But when his past sneaks into his fantasy, can he cope with reality or will he walk away from pure satisfaction?

“Here ya go,” the bartender called out, gaining my attention.

I turned around to accept my drink only for a small hand to snake it away.

“Thanks, sugar.”

Big black eyes, dark as night, enhanced by flawless eyeliner, cut in my direction as the tiny woman poured my shot down her throat. Something about the way she licked the rim of the glass caused my cock to twitch in my pants.

“Um...I...uh,” I fumbled for words. Her plump lips pursed, as she placed the empty glass back on the bar.

“Another?” she asked, almost innocent in her demeanor yet full of seduction.

I nodded, directing my attention to the bartender who was just as mesmerized by this creature as I. “Two more,” I croaked.

Blonde sunshine blinked a few times and nodded. “Sure thing.”

“So,” sweet lips started in, “you here for the groom or the groom?”

I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing this strange, alluring female. The top of her head barely reached my shoulders. Her jet black hair was cut extremely short, in a sort of boyish haircut with strands of purple blended in. My eyes drifted down her body, drinking in the sight of her supple breasts and the curve of her hips. Bright ink covered her left arm from her shoulder down to her wrist. The colors were

vibrant and seemed to flow around a central point on her bicep. It was a tree, where the roots and branches mirrored one another, yet didn’t. The colors of the tree were brilliant, from bright green and yellow, to dark orange and brown. It was almost as if every season was captured within that tree.

She cleared her throat and my eyes jumped back up to meet hers. “Huh?” I gurgled.

Her finger pointed out toward the dance floor, but I failed to look. All I could see was the ink on her arm in stark contrast to her two handful sized tits bouncing inside her sheer, sleeveless black dress.

“Are you here for groom one or groom two?”

“Who are you?” I blathered. “Dr. Seuss?”

Jeanne McDonald is an author, a mother, a wife, a student of knowledge and of life, a coffee addict, a philosophy novice, a pop culture connoisseur, inspired by music, encouraged by words, and a believer in true love. When she's not spending time with her family, she can be found reading, writing, enjoying a great film, chatting with friends or diligently working toward her bachelor's degree in literature. A proud Texan, Jeanne currently resides in the Dallas/Fort Worth area with her family.